Mississippi Liqour
by theytalktome
Summary: Randy Orton discovers the reason Ted won't let his brother drink.  Slash. Orton/Legacy


Ted DiBiase Jr. is flopped down in a heap of Hello Kitty, pink paraphernalia, and a stuffed animal explosion. Wondering if there is in fact a bed under the plush mountain is currently his best shot at attempting to hide the jealousy burning inside of him. How could he let his own - and Cody's - boyfriend, go out with this _princess_?

He reminds the boyfriend-stealer to not wear anything that looks stupid, and plants it in their mind that everything tried on looks too awful for this date. He hopes that somehow, the closet will burn down, or maybe he can lock the Million Dollar "Princess" inside and barricade it with something heavy.

His eyes close as he thinks about the idea of barricading the door, something he could not actually do, when a hoodie is thrown… landing on his head. He opens his eyes and sits up quick, throwing it back as hard as he can and leaving the bedroom that looks like Victoria's Secret with out the sexy lingerie. He is only gone for moment, popping his head back in to tell the princess that the shirt he has on has the silhouette of the "stupid cat."

The sound of Randy's hummer speeding up the mansion's drive way - and possibly hitting something - rattles the youngest DiBiase's nervous system. His poor attempt at remaining calm about this date has completely failed, and decidedly goes back to making sure he looks better, or just as good, as Cody Rhodes does. Shutting the door when he hears Randy's lusty voice from downstairs, he dashes to his vanity and sets to primping himself in the mirror and making sure his hair is spiked up perfectly and that he looks nothing less than his best for The Legend Killer.

He has saved up special cologne, discontinued for some time, and he is not sure where he got it from; and has only used it twice. It was especially reserved for the night he met with Mr. McMahon, and tonight it is for Randy Orton. He works on having the perfect smile to work down his anxiety a little, but it proves to make his pulse beat faster. He secures his strand of Hollister seashells around his neck that makes him look like he is from Orange County, and feels a rivalry to Cody who had modeled for Abercrombie, though he is quick to shake off jealousy.

Brett finds himself too nervous to venture down the stairs to the living room, standing frozen at the top of the banister. He takes a deep breath, slowly stepping down onto the stairs and leaning forward, his eyes widen just to see Randy locking-lips with his brother and Cody Rhodes when his father has his back turned out of courtesy… Or rather disgust.

Brett snickers at this; knowing well that his father's modesty and faith is a lot more accepting than what everyone else really knew - after all, they had not been the ones to accidentally see his father having his way with Cody's father. There is a reason he cannot sit on his father's comfortable reclining chair anymore, but he will not tell anyone why that is.

His father announces for them to not get too wild in the house, or at least in front of him, and Brett's hand slaps over his own mouth. Trying to keep himself from laughing he fails to hold himself up on the stairs, tripping down half of them before his father is picking him up and brushing him off like that had not been the first time that it happened.

When he gets back up, Randy is pretending to have a conversation with Ted, his back turned to the embarrassing scene, as if he had not seen what happened. Brett knows better, and when his eyes lock with the leader of Legacy walking toward him, he immediately diverts his gaze. His cheeks flush a dark red as he holds onto the tattooed arm waiting for him.

Almost out of the door, Ted Jr. comes running up to Randy, spiting his brother to get another kiss from the older man before he tells him to not let Brett drink - even if he is twenty-one. Rolling his eyes, the twenty-nine year old explains that he can handle it if his "pretty little date" got drunk, and that he wouldn't be driving, unlike Ted's little incident.

Brett groans, pulling The Legend Killer toward the car as he sees his father walking toward them, no doubt with an arsenal of personal embarrassment and over-protective threats. Orton pulls his arm back and waits to see what The Million Dollar Man has to say, despite that his twenty-one year old son's mind is running through every situation that has happened in the past with his dates fleeing.

Staring horrified at what might be said, Brett figures nothing could have been more embarrassing than the time he had to bring his father along on a date with the hottest girl in high school.

This time he was thankful for someone else driving, he didn't need to be home by eight, and especially he did not need to borrow his father's possibly bugged limousine. DiBiase Sr. looks upon Randy sternly - Brett interrupting before he speaks, questioning in repulsion if his father was going to "secretly" follow them on their date from "afar" like the last time he had followed on one of his dates, and the time before that… and that.

His father's voice is serious as he ignores him, telling Orton that he and Dusty trust him enough with Ted Jr. and Cody, that he should be able to trust him with his youngest son too. The Viper is surprisingly respectful, and promises the safe return of young Brett. Ted Sr. minds them both to be safe, and Randy to watch him at all times, and making it similar sounding to if he were to randomly run off and get lost in a store and kidnapped.

He explains that with Randy sharing boyfriends between each other it is staring to get completely out of hand. The lusty Orton laughs it off easily, knowing both he can get and keep whomever he wants to. His laugh turns to a nervously choked out acknowledgement that if something were to happen to Brett, he would be dead. He nods, assuring The Million Dollar Man safety of his "princess." Ready to leave, he has grabbed back just before he turns away, and told for the second time, that Ted Jr. is correct, to not let Brett drink any alcohol.

Something in the legend's eyes tells Randy that he is not quite believed with his over-looked promise not to worry.

Randy's eyes are focused on the road, just out of thought. He is concentrating on figuring out what the reason could be to be warned several times about not letting Brett drink. His jaw drops, something he corrects instantly, turning surprised to the boy idle and looking to not touch anything. With self-making fact as his eyes look over the epitome of innocence… He proclaims that the young DiBiase is an alcoholic.

Confused, Brett shakes his head at this, informing him that he had only been drunk once in his life, on his birthday last March. He is familiar with being examined for any signs of lying; he rolls his eyes when Randy determines that he is too much of a good, wholesome kid to be lying. Randy is left with no leads on what it could be, but what he knows now is that he is going to ditch the childish movie plans for going to the bar.

Brett is staring at Randy with shock this time upon being asked where the best bar in Mississippi is. He stutters, reminding him that his father said he was not allowed to drink and mumbles quietly that Ted had told him the same thing. He blushes when his reminders cause him to laugh, though he does not understand why that is.

Randy's arm wraps around the boy's waist, pulling him to sit closer by his side. For the rest of the ride, he is quiet as a reaction from just being shy, aside from making occasional comments about the directions that he was already unsure about giving. He flips through the CD collection in a case sitting on the seat; his eyes are not focused on the discs, but on Orton's hand working its way down to his thigh.

The Legend Killer is more than pleased with himself as he struts into the bar, Brett following so close behind that when he stops moving Brett collide into him, and is instantly apologetic and embarrassed. For the first time, it clicks in his mind that Cody and Ted are always walking behind, and tripping into him.

He has never been one for patience, getting straight to business with a bottle of Patrón for Brett and coffee for himself. He cannot risk being drunk enough to miss what could be pretty damn good, judging from the look on Cody's face.

Brett's brown eyes are wide, staring into the tall shot glass and stating that he does not like tequila… Soon after he has faced with an array of choices in different glasses on the table, and not one the diet soda he asked the gorgeous blonde bartender for. With a deep sigh, he looks to his own sexy date, which pushes the tequila back toward him.

He attempts to ward the alcohol off one more time; swiveling shyly on the stool and suggesting to Randy that he would much rather dance than anything else.

Pretending to pout, The Viper argues that he was only trying to be nice by ordering him a drink. Even to an expert like him, he is surprised when Brett believes that and thanks him with a kiss, and knows this will be just as easy as that idiot Cena's ring rats.

Wondering if a "roofie colada" was the way he should have went, his silver optics watch every movement as Brett eats the orange slice struck into the side of the glass before lifting the glass up to his lips.

Uncomfortable with Randy's eyes on him, he offers his drink to the older man and shrugs when it is declined… He couldn't figure why, knowing that this was certainly better tasting than the cup of black coffee in Orton's hands, or at least, this was fancier looking, which somehow aided the taste… When he turns back again, another held the attention of his date.

Now wishing he stayed at the mansion, instead of going out with Randy, his head sinks into his hand as he leans on the table, his free hand spinning his tequila glass around by the stem. Before swiping some salt off and onto his tongue with his finger... trying to make it look sexy in case Randy felt like paying attention to him again. Of course, it does not work, and the previous shot of Patrón is back in his sight as the busty girl takes his finished orange margarita. He sips at the clear alcohol, before being told to just swallow it from the girl. His eyes drift to the baseball game on the television across the room, trying his best to whisper his girly-drink requests to the woman, as to not cause any unwanted attention from the drunk, testosterone dripping, and large bikers nearby.

It is not long before the man talking with Randy asks for his autograph, and Brett is sighing with relief that it was not someone trying to "steal his man," even if he was the one trying to lure him off his older brother.

From his bright pink vodka fusion, his ears catch The Legend Killer name-dropping "DiBiase" he sighs, taking the piece of paper and scrawling his name down on it, knowing the man had no idea who he was, but the last name was always a sure catch. He slips the paper back to Randy, beaming when he hears him get the tone of voice that signals the end of a conversation.

Brett smiles finally and asks for a mojito for himself from the woman, before Randy could notice he was drinking everything at an alarming pace; but he could not help it when they looked so delicious. He had seen it on a commercial before; with a catchy song, he could not help but have on his IPod.

Orton shakes hands with the fan, sipping his coffee as he looks over at Brett who again had something new to drink. He laughs under his breath, not thinking it would have been this easy to get the boy drunk… but he was just hoping Cody would have taken care of his father so that he would not be awake when he finally decided to bring Brett back home.

Brett gasps at the minty taste, his sandals slipping off under the bar counter before running off to dance, dragging the reluctant Viper with him.

More interesting, about a half a dozen songs later, a breathless Orton, and Brett who has somehow between Montgomery Gentry's "Hell Yeah" and Toby Keith's "Whiskey Girl" …lost his t-shirt that now seems to be nowhere to be found. Exaggerating his exhaustion, the younger man drags him off the dance floor and back to the bar, and before he can even question the status of where the shirt went - which he was thankful for had not been missing pants - he has stopped and handed a glass of vodka. Some how, with out request, Brett has gotten the girl to turn every drink of his into an interesting presentation for him to down like water after a match.

It is an immediate decision in Brett's mind, reminding himself to choose a different place to go - or better yet, the movie he really did want to go see, somewhere remote where his conversation with Randy could not be broken. He almost wanted a video online to pop up of Orton dancing… badly… to country music. His eyes roll as Orton sets to signing another autograph for someone just as a beer slid into his view and his pink Vodka stolen.

Brett looks up at the man who has chosen a seat a little too close for comfort. Politely, he asks for the drink back, just refused and attempt to settle for the manlier alcohol. With a shrug, he takes a sip from it and thanks the unasked for company.

The older man moves closer, obviously drunk as he explains how he saw Brett dancing, how good he looks, and what a "great fuck" he would be.

Brett panics, turning back to Randy, when his head is turned back in the other direction forcefully. The man grasps at him, an unwanted arm around making its way around his waist. He gasps, trying his best not to make himself seem pathetically weak in front of The Legend Killer, but only ends up slapping the man across the face when his hands are back on his body… That will show Randy he has fit to be a part of Legacy for sure.

The patrons of the bar fall silent, the music taking the only ambiance in the now heavy room aside from a few glasses being placed down.

The man jerks Brett up from his seat by the wrist, his white and black anime-style pig bracelet snapping into a scattered mess on the floor, causing him to cry out for Randy whose already been taken over by his own in-ring actions.

If he were not so heartbroken for his bracelet, he would have been visually ecstatic that he had the most lethal date in the room; that always has some sort of lust for blood and flesh.

Randy twists, his vile, dark gaze settling on the pathetic attempt to steal his date. With a swift jolt forward, his hand wraps around the man's throat, demanding he release Brett from his disgusting hands. Upon release, Brett is quick to make his back to his bar stool, joined now by a few girls just as impressed with Orton as he would have been - had he not known who he was.

Returning home, Randy's stomach is met with an awful sunken feeling. He considers taking the young DiBiase around back, but that would have made more trouble than it was really worth, between the dogs and the questioning.

He doesn't realize he is holding his breath as he walks around to the other side of the hummer, helping out the now completely nude DiBiase -save for a seashell necklace and his class ring, that Randy had to fish out from his coffee. Wondering the way to explain this with out it being drawn back to sexual connotations was inevitably impossible. He ignores the younger man's desire for champagne to celebrate their arrival back home, draping his leather jacket around him for the only source of clothing… and half way up the steps had been Brett's perfect idea of the time to pass out.

A primal scream of frustration and disbelief escape Orton's mouth, about to heave the boy into the bushes when the door opens to reveal Virgil - a false hope as the elder DiBiase steps forward.


End file.
